


Looking Through Glass

by AnonymousPresence



Series: Amon's Bitter, Thawing, Heart [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Remorse, Sympathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:15:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9541178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousPresence/pseuds/AnonymousPresence
Summary: Amon was winning. But when it came down to a small airbending child, he couldn't press his thumb to her little tiny forehead.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written long, long ago when The legend of Korra's first season was still being aired. This was my take on the entire thing before the season reached it's end and the truth was revealed.
> 
>  
> 
> Another work will be added as a 'collection' piece and it will serve as a more 'canon' based work. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> c:

 

* * *

**smoke assaulted my senses—**

* * *

 

Her face was smaller than his hand.

His _goddamned_ hand.

How was that even _possible_?

The army of chi blockers in metal suits had wiped out obstacles such as the Avatar, the Metal Bending Police Force, the Task Force and even the Council. The so called 'peace-keepers' who only sat on their thrones, piles of money under their feet and _demanded_ power because they had their 'gifts'—

—gifts they didn't even deserve.

But it was different now.

Now he was getting everything he had wanted; everything that he had hoped for. He was bringing justice, equality, and a new life for everyone.

No more unfair, unjustified, unconscionable, gifts. No more bending.

But now—

—the look on this little child's face forced the man to pause. His thumb had pressed against all the other air benders; now she was left. He had obliged the benders to their knees, in front of him, and face their last breath as a bender. The surge of power for a moment rushed through his veins; demanding, conquering, _sacrificing_ —

—and then they were non benders. Just like the rest of the people; people who were looked down upon, spat upon, and had no voice. But he was their voice now, and he was _shouting_ for all to hear _._

The benders had all whined, prayed, begged, cried, whimpered, screamed, struggled, and bribed, everything to get themselves free of their non bending life. It was truly pathetic, watching them all squirm, like he was going to _kill_ them.

But not this girl. She _did_ have fear painted on her face; however, her tear-filled eyes were fixed on her collapsed father, full of concern.

She was afraid for _him_. Not herself.

Hesitation weighed on him heavily.

 _—No_ , he could not stop this now. Not because of this _child_. He had to avenge his parents, and every being whom was oppressed by the monsters called benders. He _had_ to. A new life was to come through the _death_ of bending. No more. There will be no more violence, no more oppression. They could live freely _—_ _equally._

_We will all be free—_

Stepping forward towards the little girl, who was easily taken to her small young knees, Amon stretched his hand out, taking a small notice towards the size of her face again. His hand slowly twisted and power surged through his body; his thumb out and was centimeters from above the bridge of her tiny nose—

"—Is daddy going to be okay?"

Her voice was loud— possibly annoying if he was being honest, but it was rasp, like she was trying to be _strong_ —strong for her father and for her brother and sister. He paused with hesitation as the girl finally tore her eyes from the figure who laid motionless on the ground. Her light colored hues stared up at him, her tears finally trickling down her red stained cheeks.

Amon had seen so many benders cry.

They cried for their bending; not even their lives, but their bending.

This kid could care less.

She cried for her father's current state. She cried because he was not moving. She cried because she didn't understand. She cried because she was scared for _him_. He could imagine what it must seemed like to her. So young, so blissfully ignorant. How was she to know? To know her father was going to be alive?

How was she to understand that the world was truly cruel and Amon was just trying to fix it?

"Is he going to be okay?!" she wailed again, shutting her eyes with a loud sniff. Snot and tears continued to roll down her face before she opened them again, gazing at the older air bender. "Is he _alive_?"

 

_Smoke filled his nostrils._

_'Father!' he screamed._

_'Get out of here!'_

_Fire._

_The heat was unbearable._

 

The lips behind the masked briefly parted to let out an audible sigh. Moving his hand away from the girl's forehead, he flicked his wrists and the chi blockers released the child without an ounce of hesitation.

A normal person would have ran away from Amon; that, or attacked him, but she simply let herself slump on her thighs before she rubbed at her face with the sleeve of her airbending attire. She sniffed loudly in front of him. Amon couldn't look at her. He was suddenly angry at himself. What was he doing? He was letting the benders win!

 

_He ran away from the fire benders._

_So cowardly._

_So pathetic—_

 

He felt a small pressure on his arm. Startled from his aggression, he looked down through the mask that had terrified many. She weakly tugged him along towards her father.

What the hell?

 

_'HELP! SOMEONE HELP! PLEASE!'_

 

He could have shoved her away, rip his arm out of her tiny little fingers. It would have been easy. She was just so small. He could have simply walked away; he could have taken her bending; but he _couldn't—_

He allowed the child to cling to him, forcing himself to ignore his army watching incredulously. Following the child as she basically crawled, Amon kept her from falling over when she hiccuped, air sending her backwards. Why didn't he hate the small bending child?

 

_'Please!'_

 

It felt like forever when the weak girl crawled to the older air bender.

"Daddy," she whined as she leaned her head against her father's rising chest.

He was still breathing; still alive.

 

_No Pulse._

 

When she calmed down, the all mighty Equalist Leader knelt down and placed his hand on her head, trying to give some form comfort; even if it was awkward.

"What is your name?" He asked, trying not to be as intimidating as possible.

"Ikki," the kid replied, looking up towards him with pure, hopeful, innocent eyes. He didn't understand just why he was immersed, but he couldn't look away. He swallowed the lump in his throat and shifted his gaze back to Tenzin.

"'Well, Ikki, your father is going to be fine."

 

_'I'm sorry, kid, you're parents are dead.'_

 

* * *

**—nothing comes from flames but ashes and hatred.**

* * *

 


End file.
